


A Friendly Face

by flecksofpoppy



Series: Poppy's Adventures in Night Ficcing [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chubby Marco Bott, Ficlet, Gen, M/M, Night Ficcing, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flecksofpoppy/pseuds/flecksofpoppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean can't stop noticing the cute guy with the freckles across the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friendly Face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [In_agony_and_ecstasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_agony_and_ecstasy/gifts).



> After I asked for ficlet prompts late one night, this came from tumblr user in-agony-and-ecstasy: _Chubby, confident Marco and flustered Jean for a ficlet prompt._
> 
> People seemed to like it, so I decided to throw it up here!

The guy is cute. 

_Really_ cute, and Jean cannot manage to get up the guts to finish his mostly-empty beer—currently being used as an excuse to linger at the refreshment table—and just walk over and say hello. This is especially ridiculous, given that his army buddy Mikasa—a woman he trusts with his life—had informed him that Cute Guy is single, and named Marco.

“Hey, I didn’t ask,” Jean had retorted immediately upon learning this information, scowling over his beer.

Mikasa’s raised eyebrow and deadpan expression had earned her a growl and a curse; then, a grudging shuffle of feet and a stubborn mumble of, “He looks busy, so whatever.”

She’d just rolled her eyes, still not speaking, and left him standing there to fend for himself, gliding across the living room with that uncanny grace to greet a few more people at the door. A good excuse to leave, at least, since it is her housewarming party.

Jean can’t resist continuing his study of Marco, though, trying to remain discreet as he surreptitiously shoots a casual glance toward that corner of the room. 

He’s got a fuller shape, a little extra around the middle which Jean happens to like quite a bit—very huggable, regardless of the fact that Jean has never been big on sentimental actions like _hugs_ ; cheeks sprinkled with freckles and a little baby fat he never lost. 

In other words, fucking adorable. And somehow hot at the same time.

_God damn it._

He’s laughing at a joke someone told, and his voice is warm and melodic. Jean blinks in surprise at the unexpected urge he feels rise in him to go join the conversation.

That, and he might kind of maybe have a thing for freckles.

Might. Kind of. Maybe.

“Are you going to go to talk to him or not?” comes Armin’s impatient voice, interrupting Jean’s thoughts. “Since you haven’t been listening to me for the past five minutes,” he adds with a critically raised eyebrow.

Jean bites his lip and frowns mildly, turning to focus on Armin. “I’m listening.”

“What’d I say, then?” Armin challenges.

“I don’t know. I’m wasted. Isn't obvious?” Jean deadpans sarcastically. That gets him an exaggerated eye roll.

“Are you going to go talk to him or not?” Armin challenges. “Since that’s what you’ve been staring at as I’ve been talking… apparently to myself.” He gives a little teasing grin—Jean _swears_ Eren Jaeger has ruined one of his only friends—and nods his head in Marco’s direction. “He’s gay, by the way.”

Jean knows Mikasa wouldn’t have said anything if the guy didn’t at least like men, and he shoots Armin a long suffering look. “Yeah, I know.”

“I know you hate talking to new people—”

“I do not!” Jean finishes the last sip of his beer and sets it down on the small refreshment table behind them. “I’m good at talking to people.”

Armin snorts and shoots a look in Marco’s direction.

And then, to Jean’s horror, starts waving his hand.

Fuck. _Fuck._

“Marco!” Armin says as Jean’s wet dream of huggable body, freckly skin, and warm eyes makes his way over. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since graduation!”

Marco smiles, looking at Jean curiously, and then back at Armin. “Mostly helping with the family,” he says, “but I’m moving to Sina soon.” He grins boyishly, awkwardly meeting Jean’s eyes again, as if attempting to politely include him in the conversation. “I found a really good job opportunity.”

“That’s great!" Armin enthuses, moving the conversation along quickly. “This is Jean Kirschstein, an old friend. Jean, this is Marco Bodt. He’s a military historian.”

Jean turns in surprise to look at Marco in disbelief, forgetting his own nerves. “Military history? That’s actually _interesting?”_

He can almost hear Armin groan in the background, but he’s genuinely intrigued. Military history sounds about as exciting as counting cracks in a really beat up sidewalk.

“Oh, sure!” Marco immediately replies, apparently unfazed at Jean’s dig at his career choice. “It’s actually really practical…”

By the time Jean’s listened to an hour worth of the merits of military history, he realizes Armin’s disappeared—as have half the guests—and Marco is giving him an apologetic look at the break in their conversation.

“Um,” he says, looking around in apparent dismay, “I think the party’s winding down.”

Jean’s heart skips at least five beats as Marco smiles at him, dark eyes staring unwaveringly into his. It’s the kind of stare that’s unwittingly intense.

“C’mon, Kirschstein, you still need a ride?” comes Eren’s irritating voice from behind Jean. “I’m leaving _now_.”

God, having a roommate sucks. And since Armin had seemed so normal, Jean figured his childhood friend would be, too, when Armin suggested Eren Jaeger as a roommate.

Not so much.

“Well,” Marco says, tilting his head to the side, still smiling, “it was nice to meet you, Jean.”

“ _C’mon_ , lover boy, I need to—”

Jean is almost sure it’s the first time he’s ever heard Armin curse as Eren is suddenly hauled away toward the door (and possibly by the ear, judging from Eren's pained yelp).

Marco’s blushing a little at Eren’s insinuation, but he doesn’t say anything to outright dismiss the suggestion.

“Uh, yeah,” Jean replies awkwardly, trying to smile in return, “cool. I guess you convinced me that military history isn’t boring as fuck.”

Marco just gives a little grin, his eyebrows slightly raised, until Jean realizes what he said.

Double fuck.

”It’s not!” he adds. “Um, it’s interesting, and you’re really cool.”

Okay, enough for tonight. 

He tries not to cringe as he retrieves his coat at the same time as Marco, but to his surprise, there doesn’t seem to be any outward awkwardness.

Nevertheless, Jean is in a foul mood by the time he climbs into Eren’s old shitty Camaro (of course he’d drive a fucking _Camaro_ , the douchiest car ever), because he knows he’s never going to see Marco again.

Suddenly, though, just as Eren’s lighting a cigarette and has rolled down the window to ash out of it as they pull out of Mikasa’s driveway, Armin appears at the passenger side window and knocks on it.

As Jean presses the button to roll it down, he comes face to face with the brilliant smile Armin's wearing, blue eyes sparkling as he pushes a small piece of paper through the window.

“Marco’s number,” he says simply. “He asked me to give it to you.”

And just like that, he turns on his heel, hands shoved in his pockets and _whistling_ , as he heads back toward the house to help clean up.

Eren’s laughing and coughing smoke as they pull onto the main road back toward Trost, and Jean scowls over at him.

“Fuck off, Jaeger.”

But he’s too busy trying not to smile like an idiot as he carefully tucks the small paper into his jacket pocket.

“No screaming in the apartment if you get a boyfriend, Kirschstein.”

“Fuck _off_ , Eren, and just drive.”

Jean zips up his jacket and frowns, huddling into it to sulk, but he can’t help the little smile that keeps tugging at his lips as he looks up at the stars in the clear night sky.


End file.
